


a teenage manual on breathing

by merengue



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: M/M, also jens my man i wouldn't trust moyo for shit but i have faith in you, i have a bad feeling about this coming out scene in wtfock so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-02-01 07:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21430777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merengue/pseuds/merengue
Summary: Robbe knows he’s not scared. Scared sounds muffled, like it comes from underwater.He’s absolutely, one hundred percent, fucking terrified.(or, alternatively: everything's fucked up, but Robbe comes out to Jens and maybe, suddenly, everything isn't).
Relationships: Robbe Ijzermans/Sander Driesen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 190





	a teenage manual on breathing

It’s not even five o’clock but the sun is already trembling over Antwerp, about to set. Robbe can feel it in his bones while he waits, the chilly evening settling in, making him shiver slightly too under his jacket.

He knows that it’s technically been only two minutes, that nobody actually makes it anywhere on time, least of all Jens, but he can’t help it this time. He’s already fiddling with his fingers while he waits and it should be impossible, right, but somehow Robbe thinks about what could possibly happen in less than an hour and it already _hurts_. Like feeling the pain of ripping a band-aid before even trying to pull.

He’s… He doesn’t even know. Scared feels like such a small word, not nearly enough to describe everything that's beating its wings inside his chest.

Robbe knows he’s not scared. 

Scared sounds muffled, like it comes from underwater.

He’s absolutely, one hundred percent, fucking terrified.

Of rejection, disgust, Robbe doesn't even know what he's expecting but he has imagined it all, any possible scenario: he has run them all inside his head at least a thousand times, torn them down to pieces only to rebuild the worst ones and rewatch them again and again and again.

_But this is Jens_, his mind supplies, _Jens_, and isn’t it weird. The same guy he’s been friends with for years, in the end. He’s been drunk as all fuck with him and they’ve made all kinds of stupid stuff and protected each other even if it cost them one hell of a punishment later because that’s what they do, what best friends are for. And yeah, Jens has been like a whole different person these past months, but at the same time, hasn't Robbe felt like a whole different person, too?

He’s thought so much about this. His head hurts, a pounding inside that doesn’t quiet down until the late hours of the night.

Robbe remembers being here with Jens last time, the smell of the ocean and Autumn settling in, talking about Noor. He’s hurt so many people, kept so many secrets that weighed so heavy on him.

He doesn’t want to do that anymore.

Jens gets there not even a minute later, skating seamlessly through the street with an open packet of crisps in his hands, jumping on the blocks so they’re both up there, staring at the ocean.

And suddenly, just like that, everything Robbe had been thinking flies out the window, and he doesn’t even know what to say anymore.

It takes a while, for the silence to break.

"Hi".

"Hi".

“You’ve been kind of a stranger these past few weeks”, Jens starts, hands busy messing with the wool hat he’s wearing. 

And, well. That’s a start, as good as any other.

Robbe has already accepted the fact he’ll never be truly, completely ready.

“Yeah, I know. It’s been a wild couple of weeks”, he answers honestly, staring at the distance. “It’s also been difficult to talk to you guys, about some stuff”.

He says _you guys, _but Jens must know that he means just him. Robbe wants Jens to get it, needs him to understand that he hasn’t felt safe sharing anything with him, like he might just drop it and let it break.

Jens surprises him when he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “I know”, he admits, bites his lip. “I think I’ve known, for a while. I’m sorry”.

“I’m sorry, too”, Robbe answers lightning-fast, because he knows he tends to explode and yell and feel like the world is ending, but he’s never been one to really hold a grudge. “For being so distant. It must’ve made everything harder than it was”.

Jens smiles softly before turning himself a bit, uncrossing his arms.

“How is everything with your dad? your mum?”

They're now facing each other, legs crossed, and suddenly Robbe feels like there are no longer a thousand miles between them.

“Same as always, kinda”, he begins, bites his lip, still playing with his own fingers. The wind is chilly and raises goosebumps on his skin. “It’s been tough, but. We’re getting there, mum and I, I think. I haven’t talked to her much these days”.

He hasn't talked to her at all, almost, but that's something Jens doesn't necessarily have to know right now.

“Something else bothering you?”

Robbe feels the anxiety again, building up. _This is it. _

_this is it this is it this is it._

“Yeah, I…", he starts, chokes. "You remember, the person I talked to you about, that day?”

“Yeah, I remember”, Jens says, looks at him squinting. “That worked out?”

“Well, we had something but, but— we’re in a bit of a rough spot now, I think. I don’t know”. 

The understatement of the century, Robbe thinks, but it also seems enough for now.

There will be plenty of time to expand on it, if things go right.

Jens frowns slightly at his answer, pinching his lip. “That’s tough, man”.

Robbe sighs softly, staring at his own legs. “Yeah”. 

“So, who’s she?", Jens continues. "You didn't tell me last time”, and Robbe can tell he means well but there it is, _again, _and just like last time Robbe can feel it, the knot tying itself in the base of his throat.

But Robbe thinks of so many other things now, too. Sander’s touch, his quiet laugh in the middle of the night, running fingers through silver strands of hair, the weight of his body pressing against his.

And yeah, he's still terrified. But he's not hiding.

Not anymore.

“He’s at the art academy”, Robbe starts, closes his eyes instantly, and only in the case it didn't come clear, “He's in first grade now”.

For a moment, the silence feels so big and eerie and just fucking brutal that Robbe is so sure he could hear it, the drop of a pin, the quietest buzz.

He can’t look. He really, really can't look.

If his life is going to crumble, if Jens is going to leave. He can't watch while it happens this time.

“So, he paints?”

Robbe looks up and there he is, Jens, staring at him. Expectantly, still eating crisps, like he just told him the beggining of a story and he’s waiting for him to go on.

He tries to find anything weird in his face, something, but his search ends up blank.

It’s just Jens, squinting as always, staring at him like so many times before.

“Yeah", Robbe answers, trying to bring himself out of it. _Painting_. "Among other stuff, too. Visual arts in general”.

Jens arches an eyebrow, questioningly. “And…?”

"And?"

_Here it comes_. Robbe feels it. Jens is going to ask him what the fucking hell this is, he's going to stand up, he's going to—

Instead of leaving, Jens smiles, teasing. “And is he any good at it, this boy of yours?”

_This boy of yours_. Robbe feels his heart on his throat, red and wild and churning, trying to think at the same time.

He thinks of the charcoal drawing that day, back when they were still on their first fight and for a moment there Robbe really thought he’d already lost his chance. Sander standing up, softly sketching, deep in focus. The black lines and the depth to it, the mourning. Like it could almost speak.

Jens snaps his fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Robbe?”

Robbe blinks twice, facing Jens, his lips curled in a knowing smirk. He can feel the blood pooling slowly on his cheeks.

"Yeah. Yeah, he’s good”, he answers shortly instead, because, god. “He’s… Amazing”.

“God, you’re truly whipped, huh”, Jens laughs, shares the crisps with him. “I told you. Like a teckel wagging its tail”.

The memory flashes like lightning, Jana and Jens and him that day after school, there and gone, but he still remembers it so vividly.

A lot of things change, Robbe thinks.

Suddenly, he’s staring at Jens and feels so, so glad that others things don’t neccesarily have to change, too.

“Shut up, dumbass”, Robbe laughs, takes a handful of crisps from the bag without asking because he's suddenly peckish and it's so, so easy to breathe. Like he had his lungs filled up with liquid before and now he’s tasting air for the very first time. 

“So, you and Noor…?”, Jens begins, but it feels simple, like pure curiosity.

Like there's nothing wrong in the world.

“No”, Robbe answers, lightning-fast. “Well, yes, we were together, but… It was never real”, he adds, thinks of Sander and the way his heart beats madly when he’s close, his clear sky eyes. “Not like this”.

Jens seems to be taking it all in, a soft smile still hanging from his mouth.

“You’ll figure it out, man. With him, I mean”, Jens says instead, soothing, and for some reason it makes Robbe want to _believe_. “I know you will”.

Robbe laughs, a bit hysterically, even, but who cares at this point. “What, you suddenly a medium now?”

“No, idiot”, Jens softens his voice and suddenly Robbe gets nervous, waiting for whatever it is he has to say. “Because you are kind and you are nice and because if he gives you any more of a hard time, he’s a boy so that means I can go to that hipster school of his and gladly kick his ass”.

Robbe can’t help it. He knows it makes no sense, but Jens is here and Jens doesn’t care and Jens is ready to kick Sander’s ass if need be, even if he still doesn’t even know it's Sander they're talking about, so he laughs so hard he fears even the school corridors might have heard him from there.

“I’ll keep it in mind”, he answers instead, can't help the smile that takes over his face.

Jens is about to answer when the sound of his phone starts blasting. Robbe feels dread settling in his stomach, heavy as lead. He's not ready to let go of his best friend right now, not after this.

Jens takes a look at the phone and simply blocks it, though, without even checking the caller, putting it back inside his pocket.

“You’re not going to take it?”, Robbe asks, frowning.

Jens smiles back, passes an arm over his shoulder. “Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait”.

Robbe knows they’re not done yet. That he’ll have to tell him about Sander specifically at some point, that given Jens’ history with Britt it could go all kind of wrongs, but it’s funny, really, because he’s no longer scared, not after this.

He knows it. He's in.

All the way.

"So…", Robbe starts, smiling because he can't help it. He feels like he could run a thousand miles right now. "Any future ideas for a vlog?"

At the question, Jens lights up like a Christmas tree. "Man, I thought about this thing, right, imagine like, a challenge of who can eat the most doritos without puking—"

"That's so lame, Jens".

Jens hits him on the shoulder for it, almost makes him fall off the blocks.

"Shut up, Ijzermans! It's not lame!"

"It so fucking is!"

Robbe hits him also on the shoulder as pay back and they laugh, and they talk and talk until sunset falls upon them like a comet and Antwerp starts melting, from orange to pink to blue, the lamp posts dotting the sky like stars.


End file.
